


Ducks

by zimothy (orphan_account)



Series: Random Short Stories [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Emotionally Crippled Erik Is Fun To Read, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-23
Updated: 2011-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-26 11:19:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/zimothy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Erik and Charles find baby ducks and the baby ducks think that Erik is their mum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ducks

“Honestly, Erik. I told you not to be there when the ducklings hatched.” Charles chided, a fond and amused smile on his face as he watched Erik trying to walk across the kitchen of Charles' apartment with three ducklings honking and trying to keep up. Erik stumbled with a curse after nearly crushing one of the little balls of fluff beneath his foot. He fell forward, hand catching the fridge and jostling it.

“Well fuck, Charles. I’m sorry I’m not an expert in duckology like you are.” He snapped sarcastically, staring down at the yellow-covered demons that were now nuzzling their small beaks into the ankles of his jeans. Charles laughed, pushing himself away from the counter and walking into the kitchen.

“Perhaps you should study for your PhD, then?” He teased, crouching down and nudging a duckling into his hand. It honked in surprise, edging away from Charles’ finger for a second before allowing itself to be herded onto the man’s palm. Erik sighed as if the entire world had decided to pain him that morning by spiking his coffee with horse shit

“I didn’t think they were going to actually imprint on me or whatever the hell it is you call it.” He watched Charles bring up the duckling to eye level, one short-nailed finger running along the top of the small bird’s head and down its back. Erik felt something in his chest clench at such a tender action – a feeling so close to adoration that he instantly wished to take a cheap and rusted butter knife too and stab to bits until there was nothing left but the sobbing remains. (sadly, emotions didn’t sob, only invoked sobbing.)

“Which is exactly why I offered to keep them at my place instead of yours.” Charles added lightheartedly, squeaking in delight when the duckling’s tiny beak nipped at his fingertip. Erik, however, tightened his grip on the fridge handle and wrenched it open to ignore the yellow Satan spawn encroaching on his territory. (not that Charles was aware that he was Erik’s territory, but that would be remedied soon enough.)

“Raven and Azazel were fucking too loudly. Your place is quiet.” Erik responded flippantly, teeth gnashing in irritation and searching through weeks of leftover containers and ziplock baggie’d foods for a bottle of beer. Charles released a horrified noise that was so strangled that Erik had a split second of terror in thinking that one of the ducklings had just been crushed underfoot and was releasing its dying breath.

“They’re _what?!_ ” Charles wailed, barely giving Erik a chance to look up when a duckling’s ass was shoved in his face. He took the baby bird from the other man, knowing full well that Charles needed both arms in order to properly rant and flail about the kitchen.

“He’s nearly ten years older than her! That’s- that’s _rape_ , Erik! How can he do that? How can she **let** him?” Charles shrieked, hip checking the wall on accident in his epileptic fit of older brother morality. He cursed- but was undeterred- and continued stomping around the small kitchen. Erik crouched down to sit on the floor and allow the ducklings to hop around his legs before pulling them into the circle of his arms. Instead of reminding Charles that it was only rape if Raven was 15 and not 25, he settled for poking one of the smaller ducklings on the beak until it snapped at him in irritation.

“—rik! Erik, answer me!”

He glanced up in surprise, staring at Charles incensed face with the best look of innocence that he could possibly express. Surely whatever Erik had tuned out was easily dismissible in favor of admiring how adorable he must be with baby birds cuddled up into his muscular arms. Charles was always a sap, anyway.

“I _said_ , why did you come here?” Charles snapped, hands perching irritably on slim hips hidden beneath the puff of a cardigan that had seen too many years through tumble dry. Erik’s heart stuttered in his chest, feeling heat prickle at the back of his neck and along the edges of his cheeks. He stared back down at the ducklings, tugging gently on a puft of tail.

“I wanted to tell you something.” He mumbled, suddenly feeling as if all the courage he’d gathered in the past week had just drained out of him like vomit through a girl on her 21st birthday.

“Is this something the answer to why you’re here?”

Erik’s head snapped up, his hesitation intermingled with irritation at himself for being an emotional bitch about Charles’ apparent lack of desire for Erik’s presence. He scowled back down at the yellow Satan spawn, shoving them off of his lap (despite their indignant honking) and stood.

“I thought we were friends, I didn’t know I had to have a reason…” He muttered irritably. Charles’ face softened for a second before being replaced by an annoyed scowl. He crossed the room, index finger jabbing in between Erik’s pectoral muscles. Erik’s hand snapped up to grab at Charles’ and pull it from his chest, coiling tight in preparation for defending himself.

“You need a reason when you should very well be at home and cockblocking that infernal bastard from defiling my baby sister!” Charles barked. Erik’s fingers clenched spastically around Charles’ hand, eyes going wide as he stared down at his friend.

“I- what? I mean, your sister’s – wait. What?” He spluttered, suddenly feeling rather shamed that he’d been so quick to think Charles was genuinely mad at him. Charles’ gaze suddenly snapped to where his hand was trapped in Erik’s, face erupting into a brilliant flush that rivaled the red of a hooker’s garish lipstick.

“What – well, what did you think I meant?” Charles squeaked, prying his hands from Erik’s grasp with great reluctance. It was an action that read uncomfortable sexual tension, so thick that not even the sharpest blade from Erik’s chef set would have been able to cut it. Erik prided himself in being able to read people, and he wasn’t so stupid as to not notice the fact that Charles was stepping back with a tightness to his shoulders that obviously meant he was resisting jumping Erik’s bones.

Oh _hell_ no.

“It doesn’t matter.” Erik barked, stepping forward and crowding Charles up against the counter. There was indignant honking when the edge of his foot bumped a duckling, but Erik ignored it in favor of invading Charles’ personal space to a point where their noses were nearly bumping and Charles’ eyes crossed beatifically in an attempt to maintain eye contact.

“Erik?” Charles croaked, sucking in a sharp breath. Erik’s hands rose, ghosting just a hair’s breadth from the skin of Charles’ arms – close enough that Charles would be able to feel the shift in pressure. His palms landed on the shorter man’s shoulders and he grinned wickedly. Charles instinctively rose his hands to press them nervously on Erik’s chest.

“Instead of cockblocking Azazel, how about we retaliate for the torture they’ve put me through by loud, hot, sweaty mansex that leaves Raven wishing she’d never walked into my house in Daisy Dukes every again?”

Charles’ throat bobbed with a few dry swallows, crossed eyes flickering down to Erik’s lips and back up. He tilted his head just a fraction, lips a teasing centimeter from Erik’s as he exhaled hot breath against the other man’s mouth.

“D-Daisy Dukes?” Charles whined, head suddenly turning to thud against Erik’s shoulder. His fingers clutched to the fabric of Erik’s shirt, tugging them insistently. “She was wearing Daisy Dukes?” He wailed out a sob, completely ruining the entire moment. “I can’t get it up when I’m thinking about Raven in _Daisy Dukes!_ ”

Erik suddenly felt a little like sobbing himself.

**Author's Note:**

> ok well. apparently I fucking suck at humor. omg. excuse me while I sit in my corner and assume the fetal position


End file.
